As a freelance contributor, Iyer collected so many “rejection slips” from editors, who felt there was something incomplete in his work, that instead of letting it bog him down, he took it as a challenge to gain acceptance.

Regret Iyer’s first rejection slip was for a photo-story on Bijapur in north Karnataka in 1964. With over 375 rejection slips, he has earned a pride of place in the Limca Book of Records.

47 years later, in circa 2011, he says he stills feels a rush of blood each time he gets a new rejection note which begins the ominous sounding words, “We regret our inability to publish….”

Unlike many of us who would cringe at such repeated rejection or quit the profession in disgust, Regret Iyer took it all on his chin, incorporated the “regret” notes from publications into his name (view his business card, above) making it his USP, and kept sending in contributions as a writer, cartoonist and photographer.

He started three hand-written magazines (Shankar’s Herald, Image, and Gruhavani) between 1969 and ’75 to encourage amateur talent at risk of rejection like him. And ran a neighbourhood newspaper in Bangalore called Stencil for five years from 1984.

Eventually, the byline—“by Regret Iyer”—went on to adorn such publications as The Hindu, Indian Express, Hindustan Times, Sanje Vani among others. Iyer also launched a company under the banner “Regret Iyer Publications and Productions (RIP).”

What is more, Regret Iyer has immortalised success born out of failure. His son, a student of journalism, and his daughter, an MBA aspirant, have both incorporated their father’s nom de plume in their names.

Not to be left behind, Regret Iyer’s wife proudly calls herself Regret Vijaya.

This story vinidicateds how the elite upper class in a newspaper views freelancers and new joinees. They have such a disrespect for people in the lower levels. Recommendations and cronyism thrive in newspapers. If you do not have anybody to recommend, it is difficult to get a job and get acceptance in a newspaper.